


make my wish come true

by shutupluke



Series: dancing in the moonlight [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Ashton is a werewolf, Calum is an incubus, Fluff, Girl Mikey, I assume lol, Magic AU, Mikey is a vampire, Multi, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Totally shameless fluff, ick what to tag this as I’m terrible at tagging, probs bc I don’t write enough lmao, you know the deal by now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 09:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17281802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupluke/pseuds/shutupluke
Summary: This is his first Christmas living with his girlfriend and boyfriend, and he had expected that Christmas in a flat full of non-denominational non-humans would be relatively quiet and lowkey; clearly, he was very much mistaken.OrAshton is convinced that he hates Christmas, but he’s never had a Christmas like this before.





	make my wish come true

**Author's Note:**

  * For [irwah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irwah/gifts).



> So this is absolutely a Christmas fic and it is very much January, but I started this and then life happened and uni and family happened, so here it is a little late. 
> 
> Also @ Dan sorry I didn’t tell you I was writing this it just sort of happened and now we’re here
> 
> I kind of adore this verse so I figured why not make it festive? Anyway this is clearly un betaed and just got so beyond far out of hand, so I hope it’s not too shitty, I can’t really tell anymore *shrug emoji* 
> 
> Title from All I want for Christmas by Mariah... you should see why

Ashton comes home from work at about 5pm on December first to find every available inch of the flat decked out with the most ridiculous collection of Christmas paraphernalia Ashton has ever seen. There’s a goddamn fully decorated Christmas tree in there somehow, and a million tiny Christmas ornaments on every flat surface except the floor- including the windowsill and the coffee table. There are three stockings hanging from the mantelpiece- Ashton takes it that his stocking is the one with cartoon bones and paw prints on it. Very funny. There are posters of Santa and reindeer and various other Christmassy images, which look like they were designed by rabid six year olds, blue-tacked them to the expensive wallpaper they’d had to beg their landlord to put up. This feels like a parallel fucking dimension.

Naturally, he has a few questions. This is his first Christmas living with his girlfriend and boyfriend, and he had expected that Christmas in a flat full of non-denominational non-humans would be relatively quiet and lowkey; clearly, he was very much mistaken.

“Cal?” Ashton calls out. 

“Kitchen!” Calum replies, seemingly unperturbed by the sudden transformation of their home. Ashton pushes the kitchen door open and discovers that the kitchen has also been festive-ified, with tinsel draped along the cabinets and baubles hanging from the ceiling. 

Calum is standing with his back to the door, scrolling through his phone while he waits for the kettle to boil. Ashton moves towards him, wrapping his arms around Calum’s waist from behind him. “Did Buddy the fucking elf move in while I wasn’t looking, or something?”

Calum giggles. “Yeah, he dropped his boxes off an hour ago. He’s taking Mikey’s old room.” Calum pulls out of Ashton’s embrace momentarily, turning instead to peck him on the lips and then take the kettle over to the counter where he has three mugs lined up- two with coffee granules in and one full of steaming hot blood. 

Ashton leans on the counter in the spot Calum had just vacated. “I’m being serious, babe. It’s December fucking first, why does it look like the North Pole exploded in our flat?” 

Calum rolls his eyes. “You’re so dramatic! Mikey likes Christmas decorations, I guess. What’s the harm? Are you not into Christmas?” Calum hands Ashton his mug of coffee and he takes it eagerly, pressing a kiss against his cheek and murmuring a thank you. 

Calum walks across the kitchen to the fridge, scanning for his favourite oat milk. 

“I’m not like, violently opposed to Christmas, or anything. We just never made a big deal of it when I was growing up. Nothing like this. Was it like this last year and I just didn’t notice?”

“Pretty much, yeah. For as long as I’ve known her, Mikey has made a huge deal out of Christmas. She used to make me sing carols with her when we were kids: we would go from door to door switching between like, ancient Christian hymns and Wham.” Calum shudders exaggeratedly, 

“First of all- Good King Wenceslas is not an ‘ancient Christian hymn’.” Ashton jumps, shocked by the fact their girlfriend is suddenly inches away from him, sitting on top of the counter Ashton is resting against. They’ve been together for months and he still can’t get used to how bloody sneaky Mikey can be with her ridiculous speed. “Second of all- I never, repeat, _never_ made you do anything you didn’t want to do. You loved carol singing with me, and I won’t let you pretend that you didn’t just because our boyfriend is Ebenezer Scrooge reborn.”

“I am not,” Ashton protests, but Mikey just pulls him towards her gently, her leg winding around his back. He moves with her willingly, his hands finding the small of her back. She’s wearing a fucking Rudolph jumper with a light up red nose, because of course she is. “I am not Scrooge. I don’t hate Christmas- I was just a little surprised by the level of festivity. Where have you been keeping this shit all year?”

“I have a storage locker,” Mikey says, frowning like that should have been obvious. “Okay, I can accept that all the decorations might be a bit over the top- but I love them, Ash. Do you think you can survive 25 more days?” Ashton is about to reply with a sarcastic comment, but Mikey bites her lip and looks up from underneath her long, dark eyelashes at him. “For me?” she asks, adopting that faux innocent tone Ashton can never say no to. Even if she is wearing the most obnoxious jumper he’s ever seen. 

“Okay, fine. 25 days,” Ashton grumbles. Mikey grins, mischief written all over her face. Calum chuckles, still sipping at his coffee, but the sound of his laugh seems to remind Mikey that he’s there and not involved in her shenanigans. She beckons him over with two fingers, and the small, commanding gesture is enough to make Calum feel weak at the knees. December is going to be a long fucking month. 

 

-

 

“Jesus Christ, I hate December,” Luke groans, collapsing into their armchair. 

“Christmas shoppers driving you crazy?” Calum asks. His head is in Ashton’s lap, curls tangled between Ashton’s fingers. Absentmindedly, sweetly, Calum kisses his fingers, and Ashton feels his heart melting. As much as Ashton- maybe rightfully so- gets the brunt of the puppy jokes, Calum is the definition of a lapdog. 

“I swear it’s like everybody woke up a demon. And even the nice demons are assholes. It’s ridiculous!”

Ashton chuckles. “There are still 14 days left, I don’t get why everybody’s so stressed. Also like- has nobody heard of the internet? Online shopping? I mean- I’m not gonna give you my Amazon speech, and I do think we need to support small local businesses- but online shopping exists!” 

Luke sits up, ignoring Ashton’s politically tinged comments because he’s not ready for the conversation to go there just yet, and the light drains from his eyes as he begins to describe his worst customer of the day. “Oh man, this one dude today was begging me for a love potion and I didn’t know how to say ‘Fuck off, you fucking weirdo, she clearly isn’t into you, I’m not going to let you drug her,’”

Calum interrupts, giggling, “I mean, exactly like that, surely.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need any 1 star yelp ratings, so not exactly like that.”

“I think ‘no powdered wormwood in stock today buddy,’ was the exact line,” comes Mikey’s voice, fond but teasing, that way she always is. She’s in the doorway, even though Ashton only got her ‘I’m leaving work now’ text at most two minutes ago. “You’re way more of a pussy in the real story than in your head.”

“Jesus, you have to stop doing that, Mikey,” Luke grumbles, like he hasn’t spent at least two decades around her. Ashton is a little surprised, but more than anything he feels vindicated. He kind of thought as the newcomer he was the only one who still flinched- Calum never does, and always teases Ashton whenever he notices. 

“I literally can’t,” she says, hanging her coat on the back of the door, but she makes a point of walking across the living room unbearably slowly, until she’s taking Ashton’s face into her freezing cold hands and kissing him. 

“You’re so cold,” he murmurs.

“It’s December,” she replies, leaning down to kiss Calum. “Also, vampire?” Ashton rolls his eyes. 

Calum sits up to make room for her, slings his arm around her shoulder and pulls her into his side, and so Ashton has to shuffle up and further into the corner of their beat up couch. He’d be disgruntled if this hadn’t been his life every day since they got together, and Mikey stopped pretending the armchair was comfortable. 

“You were saying, Luke?” Calum prompts, as Mikey kicks off her Docs and lays her ice cold feet in Ashton’s lap. He raises his eyebrows at her in feigned offence, and she has the audacity to blow him a kiss. 

Luke launches back into the story he’d been telling about work and Mikey jumps in every so often just to rib him some more, correcting the finer details and making jokes at both of their expenses. The conversation falls apart, just as Ashton had been expecting and before he knows it, Ashton finds himself interjecting. “Changing the lyric to Santa Buddy merits automatic disqualification. Like, you might as well just admit you’re homophobic, Mr Bublé.”

Calum scoffs. “You can’t say that and then slander Mariah Carey! Mariah Carey threw the first brick at stonewall. I would know, I was there.” 

Ashton groans. “Climb out of Mariah Carey’s ass, Calum, it’s 2018, she can’t sing anymore. You’re giving us gays a bad name.”

“Oh my god,” Luke laughs, “I hate all three of you. You all deserve one another. This is the worst conversation I’ve ever been part of.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Mikey wheezes, still wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. 

“You were thinking something dumb though, and that’s enough for me. Also you like Christmas so your opinion is void. Fuck you.”

Ashton hums. “I have to back Luke on this babe, I’m sorry. You can’t expect to be taken seriously when you unironically love Christmas.” 

“I can’t believe I’m being bullied in my own home,” Mikey whines, but Ashton catches her eye and he can see how much she secretly loves this. Loves them. 

He can relate. 

 

-

 

Shopping malls at Christmas time are genuinely hell on Earth, and Ashton is about ready to burn this whole building to the ground. He was meant to be meeting Mali for coffee at 12, but the traffic into town was a nightmare and finding parking once he got here was a nightmare, so he’s accidentally incredibly late.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Ashton murmurs, brushing past packs of Mums wrangling screaming kids or surly teenagers in his haste to be a better brother in law. Or not really brother in law but basically. In essence. Is it weird that they’re not engaged? They’re definitely life partners. No plans to be with anybody else, no matter how many times Jack asks for a foursome. Should he propose? Who would he propose to? How long could they take it in turns getting married to each other and then getting divorced before people got suspicious? Or, with the kind of lifespans they have, should they just wait until polygamy is legal? What was his point, again? 

He’d sent Mali the customary ‘running late, so sorry, order for yourself’ text so he feels slightly less guilty, but he’s still extraordinarily late. After what feels like a year of running around the mall he spots the cafe they’re meant to be meeting at. He rushes in, scanning the room in a flash and spotting Mali tucked away in a back corner booth. 

“I am so, so sorry,” Ashton begins, but before he can properly apologise Mali is grabbing him and pulling him into a tight hug. 

“It’s okay babe,” she says, letting him go and smiling at him with Calum’s brown eyes, all warm and charming. “I get it. Malls at Christmas are basically the Hunger Games in real life.” She shrugs. “I ordered you an Americano, did I remember right?” 

Ashton sits down and begins to remove all 85 layers of clothing Mikey had forced him to put on before he left. “That’s perfect. Thank you. Thank you.” 

“So catch me up,” she says, arching her eyebrow expectantly. “How’s brother dearest treating you? Festivities driving you mad?” 

“You have no idea. I think I could recognise every song off Mariah Carey’s Christmas album from the first two seconds, at this point.”

“Cal does love Mariah.” 

“I’ve also gained like, at least 15 pounds because Calum keeps batch-making Christmas cookies and feeding them to me and Luke. I don’t think he’s even had one, but he is constantly fucking baking.” Ashton pauses. “That reminds me,” he says, reaching into his satchel for the Tupperware container of cookies he’d brought along with him. 

Mali coos, taking the box off him eagerly and tapping her sparkly acrylic nails against the plastic. “I love this time of year! So much great food and so many layers to hide how much good food I’m eating. Christmas is the best.”

“Oh god, not you too! Why is everybody I know obsessed with this damn holiday?” 

Mali grimaces. “Okay, so, not to sound like a wet wipe, but I just fucking love giving people gifts. Finding something perfect for somebody you care about, and knowing it will mean a lot to them? That’s my shit.”

Ashton pauses, eyebrows furrowing. “Okay. That’s a good point. I like gift giving.” 

“And I already mentioned the food- when else can you just eat as much junk as you want without feeling guilty?” 

“That’s true.” Ashton purses his lips.

“And I happen to really like cheesy Christmas movies as well, so watching those back to back is a great way to waste an evening.”

“Hmm. I do like Love Actually.” Ashton admits. 

“See? I don’t think you dislike Christmas as much as you think you do. I think you maybe just have never properly celebrated it the way Mikey and Cal and I always have. I also think you have a Mariah Carey problem, but that’s not as important.” 

The conversation steers naturally in another direction, and after an hour or so of chatting, the two of them redress and meander around the mall for a little. 

“Well, I better get going. I only paid for two hours parking and you were spectacularly late, so if I don’t run now I’m gonna get fined.” She hugs him, properly, with both arms, and then turns to walk away. 

“Merry Christmas, Mali!” Ashton calls after her. She turns back to him, waves, and carries on walking away. God, he really likes his sister in law. 

For the duration of his journey home, Ashton thinks about what Mali has said to him. Could it be true… that he doesn’t actually dislike Christmas?

He knows he genuinely hates the consumer culture part of Christmas. So many people buying expensive products just to brag about the money they spent, never taking a moment to think about how ethically the clothes had been made or who the ultimate profit was going to. He hates how entitled Christmas shoppers think it’s okay to talk to his girlfriend like shit, just because she’s standing behind a till. He hates that stupid fucking Mariah Carey song.

But… but he has spent weeks thinking up the perfect gifts for Cal and Mikey and even Luke. He’s bought them presents he knows they will wholeheartedly love and be genuinely grateful to receive. And he is ridiculously, childishly excited to see the looks on their faces when they open their presents. 

Also, he’s spent pretty much every night this month he’s bundled up on the couch with his lovers, watching dumb Christmas movies about white girls from big cities who move to small towns and fall in love with bland white men. Don’t get him wrong, he loudly protests every time Mikey picks out a Netflix original with a ridiculous name, but every night he finds himself inexplicably rooting for the main characters and wiping his eyes on Calum’s shirt when they inevitably get together. 

And he has, admittedly, drank more than a healthy amount of hot chocolate despite his usual propensity for dark, bitter espresso, and he’s eaten at least his body weight in Calum’s cookies and the Celebrations tubs his coworkers break out at lunch time. 

So, maybe, Mali might have made a point. Or two. Maybe, Christmas isn’t the worst, and maybe he could ease up on teasing his girlfriend about how much she enjoys it. Maybe he judged Christmas a little harshly. He’s not going to change his mind about mindless consumerism, or ethical shopping, but he thinks he can get behind Christmas as an excuse to show his little makeshift pack that he loves them. 

He still can’t get behind Mariah Carey, though. 

 

-

 

“You’re sure about this?” Ashley says, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. She’s holding the tiny, plastic brush smothered in bright red dye about 7 inches away from Ashton’s hair like she’s scared he’s still going to back out, this far in. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” As soon as he gives the affirmative he feels cold goo on the back of his head, which he guesses means that it is actually happening. “I don’t appreciate the lack of confidence, by the way.” 

“Sorry for ever doubting you,” Ashley responds, but Ashton can tell she’s distracted. And he would hope so- a colour this noticeable can’t look patchy or home done, which is why he’d recruited the only person except his girlfriend who he knew could dye hair. 

“You think she’ll like it?” 

“She’ll love it, man. It’s a really sweet gesture.” Mikey’s reaction Ashton is confident about. There’s just one thing he’s less sure of. 

“And Cal?” Ashton tries not to let how worried he actually is slip through, but Ashley isn’t his best friend for no reason. 

“Look, not to get too graphic or anything but your literal sex pest of a boyfriend is going to be overjoyed by how good you’ll look as a redhead. Seriously. I feel bad for his knees. And for your neighbours.” 

“You actually think so?” 

“Ash. I know so. I swear to God, Calum is going to love it. So is Mikey. I hope you do, too, otherwise this whole thing was kind of pointless, and a waste of perfectly good dye.” 

“I think I will. I don’t know what it is dude, I think Mali might have slipped me something without me realising, but I think I love Christmas now? I don’t know who I am.” 

“All of the Christmas lights have gotten to your brain.” 

“They must have.” Ashton splutters, the scent finally reaching him. “Is the dye supposed to smell like this?” 

“Like the strongest chemicals known to man?”

“Yeah, exactly like that.” Ashton coughs, holding his nose.

“Sorry, should have warned you. Forgot about your wolf nose. I’m about done anyway- 30 minutes and then you rinse it off. Think you can do it?” 

Ashton sighs. “The things I do for love. And for Christmas.” 

 

-

 

Ashton tries to enter the flat as stealthily as he can, not wanting to alert anybody to his presence. Turns out it doesn’t matter anyway: there’s a note taped to the TV informing him that Cal and Mikey are going to be out until about 8, and he shouldn’t wait to eat dinner. He tries not to be offended that they’re choosing to spend Christmas Eve with Luke and not cuddled on the couch with him.

He does get it, though; Luke and Mikey have been working insanely hard non stop since basically December first to make sure that they don’t have to open the shop again until January second. They’d told him this morning that they were going to be working until late- and Ashton had lied and said the same thing, even though he’d actually finished everything he had to do at the office yesterday. 

Instead, Ashton had spent most of the day running around town to find a drugstore that was still open and that stocked red hair dye, and then the rest of his day waiting for Ashley to be done with her work so she could dye his hair semi decently for him. 

It’s only just gone 6 but Ashton had forgotten to eat with his excitement so he figures he may as well start making dinner. He gets lost in his cooking, and then in the only Christmas film left on Netflix that he hasn’t already seen, and before he knows it he can hear keys turning in the front door and loud voices in the hallway. 

“Ash?” Cal calls out. 

Welp. It’s now or never, really. 

“In here!” He finishes the last mouthful of his curry, gets up and puts his plate in the sink because he’s _responsible_ and a moment later Mikey bursts into the kitchen. 

Her mouth drops open, and it’s almost comical how obviously Ashton can see the cogs in her brain turning. “Red hair,” she gasps, in lieu of a greeting. 

“Red hair.” Ashton repeats. 

Calum comes skidding into the kitchen, then, and his reaction is pretty much the same as Mikey’s. “You have red hair. You dyed your hair red?” 

“ _Ashley_ dyed my hair red, technically.” 

Mikey’s not moved from the doorway, practically glued to the spot, her mouth still caught open on her gasp. “Any uh, any particular occasion?” Calum asks, sounding almost nonchalant. Ashton wouldn’t buy it even if he couldn’t hear how fast Calum’s heart is beating.

He grins sardonically. “I don’t know if you know this, Cal, but today is actually Christmas Eve. Which means tomorrow is Christmas Day. That could be something to do with it.”

“You hate Christmas,” Mikey says, slowly. 

Ashton turns to her, offering a genuine smile. “I don’t hate Christmas. I don’t like consumerism, or Mariah Carey, but I love you, and I love Cal, and I love how happy you two have been all month, and I love all the shit food I’ve gotten to eat and the terrible, wonderful Hallmark movies we’ve watched together. And I’ve loved buying you presents. I don’t hate Christmas.” 

Mikey rushes at him, wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, hard and bruising. She pulls back and just looks at him with this smile on her face, like he’d done something extraordinary. “I love you. I love you so much, you sentimental dickhead. I can’t believe you dyed your hair red for us.”

“And for Christmas,” Calum adds, shaking his head fondly. “You are unbelievable.” 

“You like it?” Ashton asks, biting his lip a little. “Like, how it looks? Not just the gesture?” 

Calum marches over to him, then follows Mikey’s lead. He kisses Ashton, firm and passionate, fingers tangling in his curls. “You look so good. Unfairly good,” Calum murmurs, less than an inch from Ashton’s mouth, barely breaking the kiss to compliment his boyfriend. 

“Seriously,” Mikey agrees, her pupils blown just from watching them. “You need me to show you?”

Ashton groans, dick stirring in his pants at even the thought of that. He laughs to himself- Ashley had almost been right. She’d just misjudged which of his partners would be the first to fall to their knees. “Bedroom,” he says, and Calum nods, frantic already, taking his hand and tugging him down the corridor. 

He bloody loves Christmas. 

 

\- 

They wake up unnaturally early- he blames Mikey entirely- and are sat around the tree by 10am. They’d agreed to do their big gifts for each other on their own and open their jokey ones when Luke came over later. 

“Me first!” Mikey proclaimed, handing a gift bag to Ashton and a gift bag to Calum. “And before you ask, the bag is reusable and biodegradable, Ash.” 

Ashton rolls his eyes, but he genuinely does appreciate the gesture. It’s the little things about his girlfriend that make her easy to love. 

He opens the bag, and inside finds an envelope. He looks up, curious, and realises Calum has exactly the same thing. Mikey’s looking between the two of them with a huge smile on her face, practically flashing her fangs. 

“Oh for god’s sake, open the envelopes,” she says, when neither him nor Calum move quickly enough for her liking. 

Ashton rolls his eyes but does as she says, opening the envelope and revealing- one ticket to the sold out Fleetwood Mac gig. 

“Mikey,” Calum gasps. “This is too much.” 

“How did you even get these tickets? I swear they sold out in like thirty seconds and they were like 50 grand a seat?” 

Mikey grins, clapping her hands together in glee. “I guess you could say the tickets were a favour from a friend who I did something for. Let’s just say that a person who’s name rhymes with Neevie Sticks just so happened to come by the shop with a magical dilemma, and I just so happened to be the only person who knew exactly how to help her. And I maybe mentioned how me and my boyfriends loved her music and were gutted we couldn’t see her in London.” 

“You’re kidding.” 

“Absolutely not. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

Ashton looks at Calum, who’s already looking at him. Their eyes meet for half a second, and that’s enough time for both of them to catch on to the others plan. A second later, both of them lunge at Mikey, tackling her to the ground and hugging her so tightly, if she was mortal she would be in actual distress. Instead she bursts into laughter, tears streaming from her eyes with the force of her happiness. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” the boys chant, kissing any skin they can find. 

“I know, I’m the best girlfriend in the world, you are so lucky to have me,” Mikey says, brushing them both off like it’s nothing, like they’re light as feathers. It’s kind of hot, how strong she is compared to how tiny she looks. And by kind of, Ashton means incredibly. He settles for laying his head against her shoulder, kissing the skin there softly. 

“Love you.” Calum says, kissing her palm. “My turn?” He looks to Ashton, who shrugs. 

Calum hoists himself off the floor, surprisingly elegantly. Or not surprising, really, considering. “Disclaimer- Stevie Nicks had no part in the making of this gift. No witches were harmed, or whatever. Hope you like it anyway.” 

Calum rushes out of the living room and into the kitchen, which is suspicious in itself. Even more suspicious though, are the banging sounds and the muffled swear words. 

“Um,” Mikey says, looking to Ashton expectantly. 

“No idea.” 

“Close your eyes!” Calum calls out. 

Still suspicious, but willing to give his boyfriend the benefit of the doubt, Ashton closes his eyes. 

The kitchen door is pushed open, and Ashton can immediately smell exactly what Calum’s gift is. He can hear it as well, the pounding of tiny paws against wood flooring is sort of a dead give away. 

He opens his eyes and sees Calum picking up a puppy- he has no idea what breed, but it’s chocolate brown and fluffy with long floppy ears and a big red bow stick haphazardly on his head, and Ashton falls in love immediately. 

“Open your eyes, Mikey,” Cal instructs, smiling softly at Ashton. 

She does, and seconds after doing so she’s almost crying. “You’re kidding, Cal. A puppy? Fuck you. Oh my god you got us a dog? Did you ask the Landlord? Can we actually keep it? Her, him, them, sorry. Don’t want to assume.” 

“His name is Otto- and he’s, he’s ours. We have permission from the landlord, he’s ours if we want him.” 

Mikey does start crying then. Ashton winds his arm around her shoulder, laughing gently. “You wanna pet him?” 

“Can I?” She asks, sounding genuinely shocked. 

“He’s ours, babe, of course you can pet him.” Calum brings him over, setting him down and letting him sniff Ashton and Mikey.

Ashton should have fucking known. The dog jokes had increased so much lately that he should have suspected, but nope, this was just as much a surprise to him as it was to Mikey. 

The three of them crowd around Otto, trying to balance not overwhelming him with how much he clearly wants to play with them all. His tail is wagging so fast Ashton fears he might start flying, propelled by his tail alone. “You know, I bought a jokey doormat that said something like ‘beware of the dog’ when I was out with Mali. It was meant to be a self deprecating joke, but now it’s going to look like our actual dog is rabid.”

“It’s funny either way,” Calum points out, scratching Otto’s little soft belly. 

“Should we just do my gift later? When Luke gets here? I kinda don’t want to stop playing with Otto.” 

“No, no, we’ll do it now. Sorry for spoiling your thunder,” Calum apologises. 

“Don’t be daft,” Ashton replies, kissing Calum on the cheek. 

“It probably won’t take long, anyway. They’re just under the tree-“ Mikey scoots on her knees over to the tree and rummages. “The ones wrapped with brown paper,” Ashton says, and then when Mikey pulls hers out he nods. “Yup, and the other one for Cal! It has his name on it.”

He feels oddly tense, watching them rip open the brown paper, and so he distracts himself by fussing over Otto. 

He knows that he got them gifts they’ll like- he booked them both tattoo appointments with their favourite artists in London, a new set of strings for Calum’s bass and a set of colourful glitter eyeliners for Mikey to add to her growing eyeshadow collection. A Count Dracula costume for Mikey, because he’s hilarious, and a multi pack of condoms and sleeping pills for Calum, because he’s hilarious.

But that’s not what they’re opening. After his mini panic on his way to meet Mali, Ashton had started genuinely thinking about his mad proposal idea. They weren’t there yet, he knew that- but he did feel ready to prove how committed he was with some big gesture. They were already living together, and he’d been the one who moved into the flat in the first place, so it wasn’t like he could get them keys. 

“Are these…?” Mikey’s voice trails off, and she stares into the box in awe. “They’re promise rings, right?” Ashton almost can’t watch. 

“Uh huh.” Calum replies, equally stunned into silence. 

“They’re beautiful, Ash,” Mikey says. 

“You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want,” Ashton begins, clearing his throat. He hopes they do, though, because he spent like a week after his weird breakdown scouring Etsy for the perfect rings for each of them. Calum’s is a simple silver band, three ropes twisting and intertwining, relatively innocuous amongst Calum’s collection of ostentatious jewellery- but that was kind of the point. Ashton wanted it to look different, but not to stand out, that way Calum could play it down if need be. For Mikey, Ashton chose something a little bit more extravagant, but only minutely. The same three twisted ropes as a band, but this time with a tiny citrine set into the metal. Mikey’s birthstone. God, he’s really about to fucking cry. “I just… I wanted you to both know that like, this is it for me. You two are my everything, you’re my whole world, and I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.” 

“Forever, then,” Calum responds, and when Ashton looks up at him he’s blinking back tears. 

“I love you both so much,” Mikey says, wiping the smudged mascara from beneath her eyes. “I love you, and I love this little dog and I love our flat and I love our lives. I love you.”

“I love you,” Ashton replies, reaching out to grab Mikey’s hand. She’s put the ring on her index finger, and it fits perfectly. He kisses it gently, and she laughs, though it’s watery. Calum takes his other hand, interlocking their fingers, and then he pulls him in for a kiss, a proper one. Ashton feels like he’s melting under Calum’s touch and he whimpers when Calum breaks the kiss. 

It’s not long before Mikey’s lips replace Calum’s, and Ashton cups her jaw with his hand and kisses her, open mouthed and breathless. He would keep going like this forever, if he could, but the dog barks and they all slip out of their trances. 

“Not in front of the puppy,” Calum teases. “His eyes are too pure to watch the two of you go at it.” 

“Does he need feeding?” Mikey asks. “Because I’ll do it if he does.”

“I think he just wanted some attention,” Ashton replies, because the dog is sitting happily again, wagging his tail now that he knows they’re all watching him. “He already knows exactly how to play us. Oh man, this was either a great idea or a horrible one.” 

Mikey shrugs, and carefully scoops Otto off the floor and into her arms. She leans back against Calum’s chest, who wraps a protective, tattooed arm around her, like he can see exactly where this is going. “Sorry, Ash, but he’s part of the deal now. And you just said you want us forever, so I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do.” 

Ashton throws his hand against his forehead dramatically. “Oh, woe is me. Two beautiful, perfect, loving partners and a sweet little puppy.” 

This is maybe his favourite day, ever. He’s changed his mind completely: Christmas is the fucking best.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my tumblr mashlumtrash to see me tag pictures of Calum with obscene language and post occasionally funny one liners and stuff


End file.
